


devil's backbone

by CapriciousCrab



Series: burden and blame [4]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Blackmail, Established Relationship, M/M, On the Run, POV Outsider, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 13:38:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18500086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapriciousCrab/pseuds/CapriciousCrab
Summary: How far will they go when someone from the past makes himself known?





	devil's backbone

Jamie Sharpe is sick of this small, dusty town.

 

The sound of tin plates clanking on scarred tabletops is loud in the small, narrow room; a cacophony of sound that’s made worse by the shouting and raucous laughter passing between its inhabitants. It sets his teeth on edge as the din beats at his ears, worming inside to increase the hellish pounding that’s already there. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and prays for a way to get the hell out of this place. Down on his luck and rapidly running out of cash, he's barely scraping enough coins together to afford food and a place to sleep at night.

 

The west is tougher than he thought it would be and the men out here immune to his charms. Graced with sunny blonde hair and dark green eyes, he'd assumed his looks would carry him far… but he had been wrong. And now he's trapped here, eating subpar meals at this small dining hall while hoping to earn enough doing odd jobs to afford the price of his rooms.

 

He's halfway through his meal, a tough steak and a soggy pile of bitter greens when he senses movement at the door. Grateful for the distraction from his miserable dinner, he looks up and takes stock of the two men making their way over to a nearby table.

 

His eyes skim over the man to his right idly, absently noting the elfin features and black hair before shifting his attention to the man on his left. He chokes on his coffee, coughing into his napkin as he ducks his head low to avoid eye contact. He risks a glance up and lets his gaze drift over those familiar features.

 

Dan Howell. Here, in this little wayward town and sitting across the room from him in this dingy little dining hall. Of all the people to run into, Dan is the very last man he wants to see.

 

He scowls into his mug as he lets himself remember the last time they spoke, the way Dan had ended their relationship.

 

_I'm sorry, Jamie.  I really am but I have to go! I need to make money somehow and right now the money is out west._

 

He feels that familiar resentment building when he recalls how he'd begged Dan to take him along, to stay together the way he had wanted. He had loved Dan, loved him more than he had thought possible to love another person and Dan had just tossed it away.

 

_Oh, Jamie…_

 

In the end, he hadn't gone with Dan. In fact, that was the last time he'd seen him; Dan's easy and seeming callous dismissal of him the last words he'd heard fall from his lips.

 

After that, he’d always swore he'd make him pay. Pay for leading him on and for breaking his heart.

He keeps his head down as he watches them eat their dinner, noting the way they lean in slightly toward each other. Their shared smiles, quick glancing touches, and lingering looks made it quite obvious to him that they were a pair.

 

Oh, it wouldn’t be apparent to the casual glance but as someone who shares their inclinations, one who once shared Dan's bed, he knows the signs. But what really makes nausea swirl in his gut is the soft, loving looks Dan keeps sending the man he's having dinner with. Looks that he was once on the receiving end of so many years ago.

 

Rising from the table, he stalks from the dining room and pushes his way through the door. He can't bear to be near Dan right now, his growing anger a red haze in his head. He can't think anything but revenge, of hurting Dan as much as Dan had once hurt him. But how?

 

He lingers across the street and waits from them to leave, hoping to get a good look at the man who now holds so much of Dan's attention. He hides himself away in the shadows and when the black haired man comes out alone he takes the time to size him up.

 

There's not much to him, he thinks snidely. Thin and almost willowy, he doesn't give an impression of strength. He looks soft and out of place in this rough little town and he wonders what the hell Dan sees in this helpless bit of fluff.

 

Oh sure, he's pretty enough. That black hair and big blue eyes make him a stunner, with plush lips that soften the sharp angles of his cheekbones.  In fact, he thinks, he looks vaguely familiar. He slips a bit closer and puzzles over where he's seen him before but before he can place him Dan is striding out to join him.

 

“Phil, there's a boarding house a bit up the street where I've rented us a room,” Dan says as his hand comes to rest on the other man's arm. He watches as Dan gives it a tiny caress before moving away and it makes his stomach twist with envy, remembering how it once felt to have those same hands on his own body.

 

Lost in his bittersweet memories he doesn't hear the rest of their quiet conversation, only coming back to awareness when they head off down the street together. He thinks briefly of following them, then decides instead to puzzle out why this Phil looks so damn familiar.

 

Turning in the direction of the saloon he walks past the post office, the various flyers and wanted posters catching his eye. He scans them idly before resuming his path to the bar, where he spends a few hours and more coin than he can rightly afford.

 

It's not until the morning dawns bright and relentless that he's struck by the growing knowledge of just who Phil is.

 

**

He lingers in front of the boarding house waiting for Dan to emerge, hopefully alone. He’d spent the morning thinking of the best way to approach him and just how to lay the sticky threads of the web he’s weaving. The new knowledge of just who Dan’s companion is is bright in his mind, and he can almost picture the look on Dan’s face when he springs his awareness on him.

 

The sound of the door opening has his head turning in anticipation and then Dan’s there, just feet away. He looks happy; relaxed and sated in a way that speaks of a night spent rolling between the sheets with his lover, the wide smile creasing his face teasing out the dimple in his cheek. He turns back toward the door just as Jamie says his name.

 

“Dan? Dan, it _is_ you! I can’t believe I’ve run into, here of all places!”

 

He should have been an actor, he thinks as he keeps his voice friendly and cordial, working in a hint of surprise. Dan jumps and looks around at him in bewilderment, his face guarded and eyes careful before he recognizes the man in front of him. He watches as Dan glances back at the door briefly before turning towards him once more with a smile.

 

“Jamie? My God, Jaime, it’s been some time since I’ve seen you!” Dan says with a grin. He makes his way over to pull him into a rough hug before stepping back.

 

He lets his eyes move over Dan’s face, taking a moment to let himself get lost in the familiar dips and curves. The new, fine lines at the corners of his eyes don’t detract one bit from his still devastatingly handsome face, his warm brown eyes sparkling with happiness and Jamie’s suddenly struck by a sense of loss.

 

For a moment he considers backing out, of letting go of his anger and resentment to wish Dan well. But Dan turns to look once more at the door of the boarding house as if he could see the man he’d left behind in his bed and his goodwill crumbles to dust.

 

“Let me buy you a whiskey, and we can catch up.” He grasps Dan’s arm lightly and tugs him toward the battered swinging doors of the saloon, preventing Dan from rejecting his offer. Dan looks back over his shoulder once more than shrugs and allows himself to be led.

 

*

 

They’re three drinks in when he makes his move. He’s watched Dan become more relaxed and animated, chattering happily about the past and his adventures out west. He doesn’t make mention of Phil, not that Jamie’s surprised. He can see that Dan’s about to jump into yet another story, so he interrupts before he can get started.

 

“So Dan… you haven’t told me about your charming companion. Seems a little rude to ignore such an attractive man, don’t you think?”

 

Dan’s head shoots up from where he had been studying the whiskey in his glass, swirling it around before bringing it to his lips. His face pales and his eyes skim over Jamie’s shoulder to look behind him and the panic in those eyes is _delicious_.

 

“W-what are you talking about it?” Dan stutters nervously. “There’s no-”

 

“Oh spare me the theatrics, Dan,” Jamie hisses, leaning forward across the table. “I saw you with him, and I know exactly who he is. There’s quite a bounty out for him now. As I’m sure you’re aware.”

 

“Jamie…”

 

“I’m surprised at you, Dan.” he chides, his voice low and mean. “Leaving me behind and taking up with scum like that. Whatever would your mother think?”

 

Dan’s eyes darken at that, anger creeping over his face. “He’s not scum, Jamie. He’s good and sweet, and my mother is quite fond of him. Not that it’s any of your damn business.”

 

Jamie feels the twist of that well-aimed knife keenly. Dan’s mother had never really cared for him and they both knew it. He feels his cheeks flush with anger and grits his teeth.

 

“Here’s the deal, Danny boy. I know about your murderous little lover. I know he’s here in this town with you. I also know that I could be seventy-five dollars richer if I take a little walk over to the sheriff's office. So here’s what you're going to do.”

 

He draws it out, feeling drunk on the power he has over Dan right now.

 

“You're going to meet me at the stables tonight and you’re going to give me one hundred and fifty dollars. Or I go to the sheriff and turn him in. And don’t give me any bullshit about not having the coins. You left me to be a gambler, yeah? Then go do your fucking job and bring me the cash.”

 

Dan jaw is clenched tight in rage and his face white with fear when he rises from the table. His hands tremble before he closes them into tight fists at his side.

 

“I'll need to hit the tables first. I need time,” he says. His voice wobbles before he clears his throat. “I'll have the money but I need time.”

 

Jamie leans back in his chair nonchalantly and crosses a boot over his knee. “You have until the saloon closes. I guess you'd better get to it.”

 

He watches Dan turn away and can't help but call after him, “You never should have left me behind, Dan. Say hello to Phil for me, won't you?” he says with a sneer, enjoying the way Dan freezes before continuing to stalk out the door.

 

He's too busy relishing in Dan's obvious fear to notice the man sat behind him, taking in every word with a thunderous look growing on his face.

 

**

 

It's not quite 2:00 am when he leaves for the stables.

 

He passes by the saloon where the noise of the gambling and revelry inside spills out into the street. Poking his head inside the swinging double doors, he spies Dan at a table; sweat on his brow and a fake smile plastered on his face. It makes him grin to himself, watching Dan sit at those tables as he desperately tries to win enough to buy Jamie off.

 

There's a frantic look in Dan's eyes as he looks from the table to his cards, nervously fingering the edges of his coins as he plays hand after hand. He checks his pocket watch frequently, biting his lip as the minutes turn to hours and night slips into early morning.

 

Jamie chuckles and heads outside, breathing in the cool night air as he relishes the image of Dan's sweat-soaked face in his mind. Lost in his own enjoyment he doesn't notice the man creeping up behind him until it's too late. He barely has a moment of awareness before something comes down on his head, creating a blinding flash of pain before everything goes black.

 

*

 

He wakes slowly. His head is throbbing and instinct has him reaching up to only to find that his hands are bound behind him. He tries to beat back the flare of panic at realizing he's laid out on his side, tied and helpless on the floor.

 

“Hello Jamie,” says a soft voice nearby.

 

He doesn't know that voice but there's something not quite right about it.  Like a spider lying in wait for a fly, that silky voice carries a hidden menace; one that sends a warning shiver throughout his body and has him blinking open bleary eyes to take stock of the danger before him.

 

Squinting against the light that filters in through a high window, he makes out the shape of the man seated in front of him.

 

“Phil?” he asks in disbelief. He shakes his head and tries to throw off the fog that coats his brain but immediately regrets the pain it causes him.

 

“Oh good, you _do_ know my name. That makes things much easier for me.”

 

Groaning softly at the throbbing in his skull, he stares at Phil as he once again tries to move. His wrists twist uselessly against the rope binding them and he can't help the whimper that rises in his throat.

 

Seated cross-legged on the hay-strewn floor before him Phil looks calm and at ease as if he were used to having trussed up men before him. There's even a hint of a smile tilting the corners of his lips up as if amused by Jamie's fruitless struggle.

 

“What the fuck? What's happening?” he blusters, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Release me at once!”

 

“I thought we should talk, you and I,” Phil says quietly.  

 

His gaze never shifts, and Jamie finds himself squirming beneath the weight of his stare. Steely and deadly serious, he finds himself frozen by the cold rage he sees there. Unable to look away his breath comes in shallow pants, sweat blooming on his forehead as his panic tips over into fear.

 

“I followed you, you know.” Phil leans forward to push his face closer to Jamie's, his pleasant expression never faltering. “I know what you've been doing.”

 

He actually feels his heart skip a beat. “I-I don't know what you're talking abo-”

 

“Don't lie to me!” Phil grits out, baring his teeth in a snarl. “I was there and heard everything, you fucking bastard. Do you think that I'm stupid?”

 

He watches as Phil rises to his feet to pace in a tight circle around him. He tenses when Phil stops behind his back and shifts, intending to roll onto his back.

 

“Don't move,” Phil warns softly.

 

Jamie freezes in place as the hair on the nape of his neck rises at the implied threat.

 

“I know your type,” Phil continues, coming around to face him once more. “Guys like you look at me and see an easy target. Someone to kick around, to take advantage of. Well, you've fucked up Jamie.”

 

He wants to deny it, to repudiate Phil's words but bites his tongue and keeps his breathing shallow and light, terrified that any sudden movement will unleash the violence he senses in the man before him. He can't help twitching when a cramp tightens the muscles in his arm or the little grunt of pain that escapes from his lips.

 

“Oh, are you uncomfortable? Here, let me help you.”

 

He tries to shrink away, but Phil's hands are on him, tugging him up gently to sit. The gentle solicitation is just as terrifying as Phil's leashed anger. Confusion wars with fear but he can't help but ask about Dan's involvement.

 

“Where's Dan? Does he know what you're doing? Does he know about this…?”

 

“He spoke of you. Before, on one of our travels. ‘My friend Jamie,’ he'd called you,” Phil says quietly, ignoring Jamie's question. “He told me how he had to leave you behind, how it hurt him to have to do so.”

 

He's stunned into silence and can only watch as Phil crouches before him.

 

“Now here you are, hurting him once more. And I just can't allow that.”

 

Jamie's eyes track the movement of Phil's hands, breath punching from his lungs and eyes widening as he pulls a knife from his trouser pocket. Jamie shakes his head frantically and scoots backward on his ass, attempting to get away.

 

“No! No, stay away from me!” he cries as he tries to put as much distance between them as he can. He digs the heels of his boots into the floor and pushes with all of his might but only succeeds in toppling over onto his back.

 

Phil's approach is slow and methodical, his face twisted in a scowl. His knife is clutched tight in his hand, the weak light glinting off of the blade.

 

“Stop, please!” he begs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I won't tell anyone about you!”

 

But Phil keeps coming, his footsteps eerie in their absence of sound.

 

“You know that I'm wanted for murder. Did you never think to wonder why I did it?” Phil asks, grabbing Jamie by the shoulder and roughly flipping him onto his stomach. He shoves his knee into the small of Jamie's back and leans down to speak into his ear. “I killed him because he threatened Dan. And I'll gladly do it again.”

 

A moan of terror shakes it's way loose from his chest and Jamie closes his eyes when he feels Phil shift above him. He holds his breath, waiting for the bite of the knife and the pain that will surely follow. The seconds spin out as slow as molasses and he can't help the sob that breaks free.

 

He feels when Phil grabs at his bound hands, lifting his arms uncomfortably high and hears the _swish_ of the blade as it swings through the air… and then his hands are freed when the rope binding falls away.

 

Jamie lies there terrified and confused, sobbing into the dirty hay as he hears Phil's voice once more.

 

“The only thing keeping me from killing you right now is the knowledge that Dan loved you once. But make no mistake, Jamie Sharpe, I _will_ kill you and gladly if you _ever_ try to hurt Dan again. Do we have an understanding?”

 

He can do nothing but nod frantically and weep grateful tears. “Yes, yes! I promise! I'll never come near either one of you again, I swear it!” he blubbers pathetically.

 

“I'm truly glad to hear that, Jamie. After all, murder is such a messy business, don't you think?”

 

He hears the sound of the knife moving once more, a strange whistling sound before the hilt connects with the back of his head.

 

And then he knows nothing more.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> you can like/reblog [here](https://capriciouscrab.tumblr.com/post/184252725155/devils-backbone-rating-m-words-32k-summary)


End file.
